


To Be Feared

by Yhles_the_Unpronounceable



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra Goes to Therapy (She-Ra), Catra needs therapy, Catra/Perfuma Friendship, Gen, Healing, LET'S TALK ABOUT FEELINGS, One-Shot, Post-Canon, post-s5, tw: past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yhles_the_Unpronounceable/pseuds/Yhles_the_Unpronounceable
Summary: “…I miss it, sometimes,” Catra said, staring at the ground.Perfuma raised her brows. “What do you miss, Catra?”Catra hugged her elbows. “The way I used to be. During the war.” She took another deep breath. “I hate what I did; who I was back then, but sometimes part of me still misses the way it felt… to be feared.”-A discussion between Catra and Perfuma about the violence of the war, and what it means to heal. Rated Teen for mild swearing and dark themes.
Relationships: Catra/Perfuma (She-Ra)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	To Be Feared

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that Perfuma, while a good listener, is NOT a licensed therapist, and neither am I. If you are feeling heavy stuff (and really, who isn't these days?), it is a good idea to seek out professional help.
> 
> Please take care of yourselves, and enjoy!

Plumeria was a beautiful place. Even Catra had to admit that. Everything was so lush, so colorful, so full of life. Even more so now that the wild magic of Etheria shimmered in the air and ancient creatures that had once slumbered for centuries stirred and rumbled among the foliage. If there was one place on Etheria that was the complete opposite of the cold dead concrete and iron walls of the Fright Zone (well, how the Fright Zone _used_ to be, anyway), it was here.

Catra perched on a root that jutted up from the ground and flattened out almost like it was always meant to be a bench. Given who the princess was here, that was likely, actually. She was in a grotto a little ways away from the clearing that served as the main hub of activity around the Heart Blossom. Near enough that the murmur of Plumerians going about their daily business kept the space grounded in the wider world, but far enough that nobody would wander into the grove, or she would at least have plenty of warning before anyone did.

Perfuma sat cross-legged in the grass a few paces away. Her eyes were serenely closed as she led Catra through a round of breathing exercises. She hummed, and Catra tried her level best to get over the awkwardness and follow along.

This wasn’t her first visit with Perfuma. She had come to Plumeria a few times since the end of the war, seeking the help that the flower princess had offered her back then. She’d stressed to Catra when they began that while she was happy to help, she was not a professional. Catra didn’t mind; she was a good enough listening ear. The two of them had tried various things, determining what would and would not work for Catra. Meditation was not for her; Catra just was not able to quiet her mind enough for it to work. Incenses and aromas _definitely_ didn’t work, as they just irritated Catra’s sensitive nose. Peace drums were way too hokey for Catra to take seriously. Yoga stretches sometimes helped; Catra was flexible, and focusing on her body’s movement gave her some success in letting go of her thoughts. Breathing exercises also helped, which was why she and Perfuma had started this morning with that.

And talking helped, too. When Catra could muster up enough courage to do so, at least.

She watched Perfuma as her chest slowly rose and fell, suffusing intention into an act that was usually meant to go unquestioned throughout the day.

“Perfuma…” Catra said. “Can I tell you something?”

Perfuma’s eyes opened, and a gentle smile settled on her lips. “If you like, Catra. It is why you came here, after all.”

Catra shifted her gaze away. “I know, but… I’m worried what you’ll think of me if I tell you.” Her tail drooped.

Perfuma studied her. “I acknowledge your concern,” she said after a moment, “and you don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. We don’t even have to talk at all if you’d like. But I am here to help you heal. While we’re in this space, you’re safe to tell me anything you need to.”

“Okay.” Catra nodded.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath like Perfuma had taught her. She let the breath out slowly, focusing her awareness on her body as she did. Feeling every spot of tension, acknowledging it, and willing it to relax.

It took Catra a couple more long breaths before she felt ready to speak. “…I miss it, sometimes,” she said, staring at the ground.

Perfuma raised her brows. “What do you miss, Catra?”

Catra hugged her elbows. “The way I used to be. During the war.” She took another deep breath. “I hate what I did; who I was back then, but sometimes part of me still misses the way it felt… to be feared.”

Perfuma did not say anything. She waited patiently for Catra to continue.

Catra did. “I… felt _powerful,_ I guess? On the battlefield, I could corner just about anyone from the other side, and I could see in their eyes that they _knew…_ They knew I was stronger than them, that I could do anything I wanted, and they… wouldn’t be able to stop me. I even got that look from Adora sometimes, and it felt… it felt _good._ ”

She choked on a sob. Hot tears stung her eyes. Her chest rose and fell with rapid, panicked breaths.

“Remember to breathe, Catra,” Perfuma gently reminded her.

Catra gulped for air. She forced her palms down to the root beneath her so that her claws would dig into the wood instead of her skin. “What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered. “How can I claim that I want to get better, want to _be_ a better person, when I still miss the way it felt back then?”

She looked up, and her ears folded back against her head when she saw the shock in Perfuma’s eyes. She’d said too much. Now Perfuma knew what a monster she was. It was only a matter of time before that shock twisted into disgust and she would demand that Catra leave. She would ban Catra from ever returning to Plumeria, and without Perfuma helping her process her emotions, Catra would fall back into her old ways again and remind everybody why she’d been their enemy and then she would have nowhere to go and… was Perfuma _laughing?_

“Perfuma…?”

“I’m so sorry,” Perfuma said, covering her mouth. “This is – hehee – very inappropriate of me, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing, it’s just…” She took a deep breath to dispel her fit of giggles. “…it caught me off-guard to hear you say almost the _exact_ thing I confessed to _my_ confidant not too long ago.”

Catra blinked, taking a minute to process Perfuma’s words. “You? But you’re like… peace and harmony incarnate!”

Perfuma sighed. “That’s how I’ve always tried to present myself. I was a strict pacifist for a long time, convinced that the karmic balance of the universe would protect me and my people. But when the war came to Plumeria, it forced us to take matters into our own hands. I was… surprised at how much I enjoyed the power and control that gave me a taste of. I didn’t just join the Princess Alliance out of gratitude to She-Ra. I also joined, I think, because I found that I _liked_ the way it felt to fight.”

She looked down at her hands, flexing them into fists and then relaxing them once more.

“You’re not the only one who felt the way you did during the war, Catra,” Perfuma said. “And you’re not the only one questioning what kind of person those feelings make us now that the war is over. All that violence and destruction brought out ugly things in all of us.”

Catra stared at Perfuma, trying to reconcile the beacon of serenity sitting before her with the idea of her feeling the same rush in battle that Catra remembered feeling. She’d never directly faced Perfuma in any of her fights against the rebellion, but she’d seen footage recorded by her troops – crushing vines covering the battlefield, pulling tanks apart like they were toys and pinning whole squadrons beneath an overwhelming mass of green.

“I don’t know that I have a good answer,” said Perfuma. “I think that for some of us, we sought out some form of control in the midst of that chaos, even if that control came at the expense of others. It doesn’t excuse anything, just explains it. And I can’t tell you that you’ll ever stop missing that sense of power. _I_ still miss it.”

Perfuma lifted her hand, causing a green stalk to rise from the ground. It bloomed into a bright crimson flower, which she plucked and offered to Catra.

“But I _can_ tell you that those feelings are not the whole story of who you are, Catra.” Perfuma smiled. “They don’t erase the good that’s in you. They don’t change the fact that every day since then, you’ve chosen to be better than you were. You may have that darkness in you, and maybe it will always be a part of you. But you also have courage, and love, and kindness in you as well. And the more you choose to nurture those aspects of yourself through acts of compassion, the more space those will occupy in the narrative of who you are.”

Catra took the flower in her hand, staring down at the petals. Its color reminded her of a freshly opened wound, like so many her claws had carved during the war. But it was also the color of the bricks she’d helped lay for a new schoolhouse in Thaymor. It was the color she’d helped paint on a rebuilt barn on the outskirts of Alwyn. She lifted it to smell its honey-sweet fragrance.

A gentle breeze rustled through the grotto. Perfuma’s hair swayed in the wind. “Is that helpful for you?” she asked.

Catra nodded. “Yeah… I think that makes sense.”

“Was there something else?” Perfuma asked.

“Not really...” Catra shook her head and chuckled. “I was just thinking about who would’ve come out on top if you and I had faced off during the war.”

“Oh?” Perfuma wore an amused expression. “And what do you think?”

Catra leaned back to look up at the clear blue sky above. “I think that it doesn’t matter.”


End file.
